The (Seven) Ways People See You
by HoshisamaValmor
Summary: Drabbles of each sibling regarding Klaus. (Pre-canon)
1. 00 01

Author's Note: A simple idea probably written eloquently and insightfully by someone else already, but here we are. Each chapter has a sibling.

Some of these may probably be a bit harsh, but they all take place a considerable amount of years after they've been separated and before they are reunited. I take the time in which they haven't had any contact adds bitterness and nostalgy in turns, feelings that in turn resurface and face reality when they do get together again in the show's time.

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own The Umbrella Academy.

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_6 years ago_

Luther roamed the empty mansion - well, it was hardly empty with Dad, Pogo and Mom each attending to their respective tasks, but they were all silent, and that was what apparently defined empty today. The lack of sound.

Five and Ben's silence hurt the most, even now. They were a void, heavy and painful, encapsulated in their abandoned but attended bedrooms - Mom still made sure everything was as it had been, frozen in time, as if in hopes some day any of them would return and needed to feel the sanctuary each of their rooms was, a special feeling of Home at home. Even though the odds of any of his siblings returning seemed fainter every day, the care Mom had in maintaining Five and Ben's bedrooms in particular despite the absolute certainity neither of them would return was particularly saddening.

Luther moved on through the hall past Diego's room - no sound of knifes cutting air, no occasional clattering or quiet hum of words. Before, he'd be listening to Vanya's violin by now, no matter if the door was shut tight or not. He had found, to his surprise, how that silence in particular had disturbed him after the first weeks without everyone living there, like the sudden absence of it had made him realize how much he had taken it for granted. That could be said for everyone of them, actually. But even before he passed by her bedroom, much less approach Allison's empty bedroom right beside his - and facing the particular pain that one brought - he gazed to Klaus' empty room.

It might be unfair as Number One to think it, but Luther had discovered the feeling had not changed throughout the years living in the not-so-empty mansion. He missed the sound, the liveliness each and every one brought to home, even if he knew Dad was so often fast disapproving of any excessive... well, liveliness. And yet, _this_ one, this one bedroom and the brother he should miss in it, he didn't. He didn't miss Klaus' theatrics (and him ignoring Dad's disapproval) or occasional bursts of loud music (and him ignoring Dad's orders on the issue) or any of his blaberrish that could only be childish, annoying blatant cries for attention. He didn't miss the feeling of disappointment Dad would bestow the very sight of Klaus and that would in turn make Luther feel a second-handed sense of failure and embarrassment - feelings Klaus himself seemed be completely devoid of. If anything, they only prompted him to be, act and behave even worse.

Dad never blamed Luther on any of it, as a failure on his duty as leader to properly command the rest of them and demand the faintest form of compliance from Klaus, but Luther still felt the lingering sting of the responsability he had decided to hold on his shoulders. He had no idea what Klaus was up to, and admittedly, he did not have much interest. It'd only further annoy and humiliate Dad, and by extent, Luther, so it was a welcome silence.

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	2. 00 02

_6 years ago_

Diego was returning from a surprisingly tranquil time at Eudora's when he saw the junkie. Ragged and disheveled, the middle aged man with long dirt blond hair was trying to ask for change to the people that happened to pass by him. He wasn't being aggressive or pushy, simply trying to silvertongue some coins out of anyone who might fall for it, but Diego felt an immediate and disproportionate spark of anger in his chest. He was heading that way regardless, but he walked with a purpose and waited for his turn to be approached. As soon as the man opened his mouth, Diego grabbed him by the collar and pushed him back against the wall of the nearest building, much to the man's shock.

"Whoa, man! What the-"

"Scram the streets and leave people alone, you hear me?"

"I ain't stealing or anything! I was just askin-"

Diego shoved him free. "Beat it."

The man straightened back up and stumbled on his feet as he went. Diego was persuasive enough with just that display of force, and the junkie might be entering withdrawal but he was a scrawny guy and Diego wasn't. He could hear the man cursing all sorts of words, but it wasn't enough to make Diego pursue him further. The junkie still peeked over his shoulder a while later to check if Diego was still there, and was subsquently fast to turn a corner.

Diego breathed out and resumed his way, trying to push the itching annoyance away, but his mind wasn't as susceptible to his own intimidation as other people were. Of course, it didn't really take him much effort at all to put a name to the source of this specific outburst. He hadn't seen Klaus for years now, and it likely seemed they wouldn't meet again anytime soon. From time to time, he'd catch a glimpse of someone and wonder if there was more to the casual resemblance, but so far Diego hadn't really approached familiar-looking junkies on the street to make sure which one of them might be Klaus.

The last time he had actually seen Klaus had been enough: the flashy outfit he had been wearing identified him even before Diego could catch a glimpse of his face as he ran down the opposite street where Diego had been standing, running away from two cops while holding something clearly stolen in his arms. The scene had been just like so many that made Diego reach for his knifes immediately, but the surprise of seeing who the thief was made him hesitate, and by the time he could decide who he'd aim them at, both Klaus and the policemen had disappeared from sight.

Diego scoffed at the mere memory. He didn't like to think on Klaus - or any of them, for that matter - but any assumptions on his condition these days were as depressing as they were possible. Despite everything, Klaus was his little brother, the sole remaining one after Five and Ben were gone. To think that insufferable (but once so caring) idiot could be laying wasted on the next corner or with an IV tube needled to his arm or shoved in a prison cell made that long-dorment protective instinct trigger somewhere in Diego, only to be immediately smothered by a harsh contempt. For Klaus, for Five and Ben, Luther and Allison and even Vanya. Victims, all of them, either helpless or willing to stay that way. He wanted nothing to do with any of them.

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	3. 00 03

_5 years ago_

Allison felt a stinging mixture of equal parts offense and self-consciousness in her throat at each page she turned. She honestly didn't know which source of which feeling was the most uncomfortable - being pictured as a manipulative cold-hearted brat, or being reminded of things she'd rather forget. Feelings she had all but repressed and brushed away as being part of her past and her siblings', things she thoroughly had not deemed as harmful at the time as she did now reading them years after the fact.

Not least of all regarding Vanya herself. Of course she knew Vanya wasn't included in any of their missions or trainings, and of course she knew that was alienation, but she... didn't really consider it quite like that. Vanya was just... Vanya. Her little sister, someone who was always there, belonging by... not belonging. It was a lonely condition, and part of Allison had always been aware of it to the point of not even noticing. It was just how it was, and it could never be another way. What could she have done, really? What could she have done that she had not? She loved Vanya - she just wished maybe she had been better at showing it, because clearly, she had failed.

Still, when it came to the parts of their brothers, that sting of anger would pinch harder because it was not about Vanya being unfairly lonely or Allison being a self-centered manipulative bitch. Exposing their brothers' lives like that was wrong, but then again, this was _Vanya's_ story, and Vanya's story was shaped by her siblings'. They were a family, and all of them were who they were individually because of each other. Vanya could never talk about herself without talking about everyone else.

Allison was particularly surprised with the mentions of Klaus. Vanya was... particularly insightful on Klaus, in a way that made Allison hurt even more. Insightful on him as a person, and insightful on him as a tormented child.

She didn't recall Vanya and Klaus ever being close, even though their bedrooms were literally right next to each other. _Allison_ had been close to him, for almost all their years living together, but she did grow a bit more distant in the later years... for no real reason. They simply started growing more apart. Klaus was Klaus, always positive, always a bit over the top, always caring - especially caring, much more for others than for himself. Even when it became clear he was starting to lose control of his escapism - and how that had worried Allison - he'd tell her he was alright, that he was better that way than before. And Allison believed him, because... because it was true. Klaus grew_ particularly_ positive and happy and over the top and she saw it as a change for the best, even if Dad never liked it (but honestly, when had he liked Klaus?). She should have seen deeper into it but she was... busy dealing with her own stuff. Klaus was Klaus, and he'd fight through his demons. Klaus would be alright.

Vanya knew more than Allison, both as a witness and as an interpreter. She knew of persisting_ 'lessons'_ Dad had given Klaus and that Allison had not known, and not only did she expose the traumatic experience in the mausoleum in the book, she also described how she thought it broke Klaus. He started to pretend, she wrote, that he was this unshakable force, unfazed by their Father's training and demands, purposefully antagonizing every principle he could for the sake of it. When the reality was that he was viciously tormented by it all, but had given up trying to show vulnerability or ask for help, as he knew his Father would only further degrade him and that his siblings would not really want to put up with him at his worst.

_I believe he was right, in many ways. I heard him crying several times in his bedroom, and I would pick my violin then to hide the sound from my ears, or anyone else's. I don't know if Klaus was thankful for it or not. Maybe it made him pretend everything was alright, like he wanted everyone to think. Mostly himself._

Allison should have known. She should have recognized the act, but she hadn't. She saw what hurt less, because she couldn't fully believe her doofus and caring brother was hurting so much and no one had done anything for him. No one, especially not her.


	4. 00 04

A stupid, useless piece of scared chicken. His head hurt, his eyes hurt, his body hurt, shit probably even his soul was hurting somewhere in there, Ben's disapproving eyes were starting to look too much like Dad's through the throbbing haze left in his brain now that the drugs were kicking off his system too fast after he had sweated and shaked them all off in his sleep. It was pretty sad, even he had to admit it (or he thought he did, his brain was fuzzy with that stabbing headache) that he couldn't even wake up in a decent state, but truth be told, he hadn't slept decently at all. He probably pushed it in yesterday's dose, or actually didn't push enough, 'cause he wasn't supposed to feel this miserable this soon. Maybe he had subconsciously thought he should cut a bit after he OD'd last week. He hadn't even done that right - being dead probably would let him sleep a bit more soundlessly and not put up with this... well, everything. A sad useless little coward that everyone just...

...you know what, screw this.

Klaus rolled on his stomach, realized he wasn't really laying on a bed but curled on a small set of stairs and instead rolled over the steps, laughed at himself sprawled on the street floor despite the ache in his body, rummaged through his pockets to find four pills he had in one of them and popped them up dry, dragged himself up the steps again and curled against the wall again, falling asleep some seconds later.

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	5. 00 05

_33 years later_

Five contemplated the tattered and dirty cover of the copy of_ Extra Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven_ that had been poking out of a pile of rumble. He had read it aeons ago - _decades_ ago, Delores corrected and making him acquiesce to her tic for details, especially time-related ones. He still remembered the entire book. It had been his window to the future years of his own past he had missed, his only way of knowing some semblance of how his siblings had grown up to adults - or older teenagers, as it was, for Vanya had transcribed her memories only up to their eighteenth birthdays. The gap from there to most of their deaths at twenty-nine in 2019 was left to his imagination.

Today was his forty-sixth birthday. Of course, there was the possibility he had misscounted some days throughout the decades, but he was fairly aware of the small margin of error. Plus Delores kept the time tabs for him when he forgot. Regardless, he could technically decide it to be October 1st today if he so wished it and if he was prepared to hear Delores' complains. He decided that finding a second copy of the book today was a questionable coincidence, or some form of destiny. Either way, he sat down and flipped back and forth through the pages as if he was trying to find some part he particularly liked. It was hard to find any.

He had imagined his siblings reactions' at the respective times they all read it, and found himself reenacting the possible scenarios in his mind. Shock and embarrassment were likely to have been the main feelings for anyone whose major part of their life had been exposed to society. He stumbled across a passage about him and did feel a strange tingle in his chest for the bluntness and unflourish words, but he could only commend Vanya posthumously for staying true to her resolve to display the bare truth of facts and her perspective evenly throughout the whole book. Being described as_ 'an arrogant and self-centered prodigy, a stellar product of our Father's methods to create incredibly powerful weapons and proportionally deeply damaged children'_ wasn't exactly flattering, but it did make her following words on how his disappearance was the first tragic outcome of it all and a painful lesson on everyone feel more meaningful.

He got caught up on some moments of the reading, thinking back on the children he remembered his siblings as, taking his time on that particular passage on Klaus that he had committed to memory before and now found returned as words on paper: '_Klaus was so sweet and vulnerable as a boy, but Father experimented on him the most, and it changed him.'_

The Klaus he remembered had indeed been sweet and vulnerable, until that time where Father trained his powers for real. Oh, he had remained sweet after it, but he had also become _exponentially_ more vulnerable. Five remembered that one night where they woke up to the entire mansion _shaking_ (to this day, Five was sure it really had, not that he had dreamed it) because of his screams, and he remembered how Dad's first reaction, rather than attend to Klaus, had been to order Vanya to take her pills to calm her nerves as she was visibly terrified by the startle. He didn't seem to think that maybe sparing some to calm down Klaus might be an option too, and instead, what he had done was place a harsh rebuke on his Number Four and lock him in his room without letting Mom in to soothe him. Five distinctively recalled the near hour of screams - and how, annoying as they were and kept them all up in their rooms, genuinely felt nothing like a tantrum but as terrified pleading - before Dad finally gave in for Mom to calm him down. The next day, Vanya had her pills stolen, and Dad punished Klaus severely for it in a way as horrid as locking him in a mausoleum had been.

All this was retold in the book. Vanya knew it, and so did Five now.

For all the psychology books he had been reading, the_ 'swim or drown'_ method seemed to be arguably more productive in its metaphorical practice than in its literal one, and for what he could assume, Klaus simply went down. Five had seen the first symptoms before getting stuck in the future, but it appeared Klaus had grown up to become a full time junkie, complete with turning his sweetness into a tool to lie and con everything and everyone to get the escapism he wanted, in hopes to drown both the ghosts and his trauma in equal measure, Five would assume. He could visualize his Dad's contempt so clearly in his mind, increased by a tenfold as his Number Four sunk deeper down from his esteem.

What a waste.

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Author's Note: The quote about Five is my own creation, but the one about Klaus is from the original comics, I believe. I've only seen it on a gifset edit  
tuagifs (DOT tumblr (DOT com / post/184331388552/excerpts-from-extra-ordinary-my-life-as-number

Edit: I've indulged myself a little exploration of that nightmare incident Five recalls. It's called "When your way is the only way"


	6. 00 06

Author's Note: This and the next chapter are considerably lengthier, sorry. Although I feel it kind of takes away from the intended feel of the other chapters and would perhaps be much better suited as separate fics, my momentary musing of rewritting these two came quite short, so I sticked to the original drafts I'd got too carried away with.

Warning: Mentions of suicide and graphic enough overdose.

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_8 years ago_

Ben wished he could sleep. He couldn't blame Klaus for trying so hard to, because he knew how heavy and exhausting it was. He saw the effects lack of sleep had on Klaus, and how so much of it all was for the single purpose of being_ able_ to sleep at night. Ben had decided that looking out for Klaus when his brother did manage to sleep was the best replacement he himself could get.

They were in a shady motel room. Klaus was sprawled and soundlessly sleeping on the mattress, half-squashed, half-entangled with the guy that, considering Klaus' track history of relationships, was now effectively his boyfriend at a stunning full week-long record. He was a drug addict too, which meant most of their time together was spent getting high. Whether or not that was the biggest drive of that relationship was irrelevent.

A man had died in that motel room. His face was a brutal shade of purple and he still had the noose he had used to hang himself around his neck. The biggest problem with being dead was you don't change, so if you're a dick in life, you'll likely be a dick in death, and this guy was a big one. He had been exceedingly loud and obscene in his comments throughout the entire time they had been in _his_ room, trying helplessly to drag Klaus and the guy out, trying to do anything to get noticed and of course yelling at Ben for his trouble.

Ben sighed tiredly. Even if he_ could_ sleep, he certainly wouldn't be able to with this guy yelling. Times like this made him admit how it was almost justifiable for Klaus to find any chemical help to shut all that shit down.

Later, after both of them had woken up, showered and smoked their first round of happiness of the day, they lazied out on the bed and talked about this and that, settling up for a party with some other folks later that day. Klaus seemed so carefree it almost made Ben happy.

Ben was glad to leave the angry ghost behind when they left the motel, and even more glad that Klaus hadn't had to put up with him. Chemically induced or not, Klaus had slept and was happy enough, so that was a plus.

He followed them as they went about, saw them go do a bit of window shopping while Klaus squashed his face against the window to goo over a coat, saw them tease each other and laugh, just genuinely having no real care in the world. Sure enough, they did, and after they had pawned something the guy had, they went to buy some drugs for the day and for the party. They took some of the pills to test them out and seemed to be quite pleased with the results. While the guy took the change they had been left with and bought some alcohol for his way, Klaus waited outside and then kissed him goodbye, settling up to meet at one of their friends' house later on.

Ben saw how Klaus soon felt particularly bored or restless, because he started twisting his hands as if in antecipation. Ben frowned, having learned that tended to not be a good sign, and true to his intuition, he saw Klaus rummage his pockets for more of the pills they had bought.

"You don't need more now, come on, Klaus." His words fell on deaf ears. Klaus shrugged, a very clear visual portrayal of a _'why not?'_ in his brain, and swolled down the pills. Ben sighed in resignation, but there was literally nothing he could do to dissuade him if Klaus had been sober enough to see Ben, let alone as high as he was already. That wasn't necessarily a problem, or a big one at least. The problem was when he saw Klaus' pace stagger drastically minutes later, and he stopped walking. "Klaus?"

"Shit. Ben..." The words were a mumble, confused, and he reached his hand blindly to the side as if he was looking for something to hold on to, possibly Ben, although he stood right in front of him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, but Klaus didn't react to his presence. His eyes rolled to the back of his skull and he fell right through Ben, who still tried to catch him regardless of knowing he couldn't before he hit the ground head first. "Shit! What's wrong, what's happening?"

Obviously, Klaus didn't answer, and instead his body started to thrash uncontrollably and Ben felt himself panic and fell to his knees beside him, seeing him start vomiting _something_, because it couldn't have been food, he hadn't had any, and starting to choke.

"Jesus Christ! Klaus! Someone! Please, he needs help!" Ben looked around in despair but no one heard him, the only one who reacted was a young man who had a bloody chunk of his head missing and that didn't help. He grit his teeth in frustration and tried to talk to Klaus, get him to answer, to hold him or turn him on his side so he wouldn't choke on his own sick but his hands just passed through him without anything happening, he couldn't touch or feel him, it was as if he wasn't there and he was just a ghost.

Suddenly, a pair of hands pierced through Ben's and turned Klaus over his shoulder, screaming similar words that made people turn their faces. A man, alive, was trying to keep Klaus breathing and still while he dialed 911.

"Thank you, he just- he just collapsed, I- he took something, he- shit, he-" Of course, the man didn't hear him. He was asking Klaus' name, for any information that Ben screamed at him before numbly realizing it was pointless.

The anonymous man stayed with Klaus until an ambulance arrived. From there on, the paramedics did, then the doctors and nurses. Ben stayed with them the whole time, until he was the only one left in the room Klaus had been laid on a bed, IVs and tubes swirling around him and a constant beeping that wouldn't let Ben sleep. Not that he needed, or wanted it.

It took a long while for any other sound to be heard in the room, and when it did, Ben jolted up.

"Hey, Ben."

"Klaus." Ben stood up and came by the bedframe.

"How've you been, Benny?"

"Don't even start. How are you feeling?" he cut short, Klaus' groan making him frown.

"Never been better." Klaus gave him a weak smile that angered him for a second, all those desperate attempts to show everyone he didn't care or didn't mind about anything when Ben knew better.

"They're kicking the drugs off your system. You-"

"Clearly, it's working," Klaus mumbled, moving his hand up to his head with another groan. It had been a miracle he had only got a concussion from falling head first to the ground and not bled himself out from a broken skull.

"You OD'd, Klaus."

"...guess I started the party too soon, huh."

"This is serious. You could have _died_," Ben rephrased, but Klaus scoffed hazily.

"Relax, bro," he dismissed Ben with a hand wave so weak it made it look like a spasm. "Look at you. You're dead and you're doing pretty great."

Klaus had dozed off before Ben found the words to say to no one.

"Not when I have to see you waste away, you idiot."

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	7. 00 07

_3 years ago_

Vanya took a moment to recognize him on the train. She first moved her gaze away when she saw the outline of a man with a ragged appearance and questionable soberness sinking into a seat in the next row of hers. The man didn't cause a ruckus of any sort, simply made a few eyes turn to him as he apparently fell asleep, and Vanya left the subject be entirely for a couple of stops until she casually looked around to pass the time and peeked at the man from her safe distance. The train wasn't very full, but the seats next to him were all empty - an understandable thing most of the time, as you never know how some people may behave or react. Just as Vanya was thinking that you never know how_ any_ person may behave or react regardless of what they look like, she was staring at the man's face and realized it was Klaus.

She blinked and straightened up a bit. He wasn't wearing a shirt under his coat, so she could see how skinny he'd got. Klaus had never had much baby fat to being with, but he was skinny in ways that seemed borderline unhealthy. She hadn't been wrong on the ragged appearance - although she could now see that outfit would certainly be a redflag on something Klaus would wear, a furry coat dyed black and denims with rainbow patches scattered throughout, everything seemed to be getting shabby. His hair was a messy cloud on top of his head and he did look tired, though there was the possibility that the much more consistent beard he had now compared to the teenager first samples might also help increase the weary appearance, but now the main question was whether or not it was just depressant drugs doing their work.

Vanya tucked her arm close for the moment it took her to decide to stand up and excuse herself for the trouble she caused the people nearby her, moving their legs so she could walk pass. She sat again on the very next row and looked at Klaus again. She didn't exactly know what she was going to say, but she wasn't really about to just pretend she hadn't seen her brother after a decade.

"Klaus?" she called softly. Tentatively and carefully, she reached her hand forward and shook him gently by the knee. Instead of getting a groan of protest or a drowsy mumble, Klaus jolted up like he had been zapped.

"Jesus Christ!" he yelped, his hand flying to his chest while Vanya jumped back and pulled her hand away.

"Sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!"

"It's alright," Klaus replied, sighing and massaging the place over his heart. "I'm a bit jumpy, that's all."

He didn't seem to recognize her immediately, and Vanya felt a painful pang in her chest before she forced herself to remember she hadn't recognized him at first glance either.

"Klaus. It's me. Vanya."

Klaus yawned widely while he blinked the tiredness away to look at her, and she felt the pain ease a bit when she saw the moment he saw _her._

"Oh. Hey, Vanya!" He frowned suddenly. "Are you dead?"

Vanya gaped. "N-No, I'm not."

Klaus sighed in relief. "Well that's good to hear. Got scared I might be getting sober."

Vanya nodded without really knowing why. While Klaus suddenly moved his arm to his right side with a gesture that looked as if he was shushing someone, she tucked her arm close again, soothing herself absentmindedly and gathering strength to... well, do something.

"How've you been? You seem tired." She immediately chastised herself. Smooth, Vanya, very smooth. "I-I mean, is everything alright?"

"Oh, yeah. It's just been a very long... two days. And nights, I guess." Klaus chuckled, although it came out certainly a lot more wearily than he intended. He then made a little dance with his arms and hands to mask the tone. "Gotta enjoy ourselves while we're still young, huh? We'll be turning thirty in no time! Who'd have thought?"

"Yeah," she said, smiling a bit too, though probably just as faintly. She noted something new on him though, which gave her a little help to ask: "You've got new tattoos?"

"Hm? Oh! Yes I do!" He turned his palms forward in front of his face. He had rather big, bold in their simplicity, 'HELLO' and 'GOOD BYE' tattoos sinked into the skin. "I think I was pretty drunk when I had them done though, to be honest. _Sooo_ painful, 10 out of 10 would not recommend."

The smile Vanya gave now was more genuine. That really felt more like Klaus. "Like an Ouija Board."

Klaus grinned more widely too and waved his eyebrows for the hint she had caught. He waved his hand to his right side again in that same shushing gesture. "Hence me saying I was probably a bit too drunk. But what can I say, my drunken self has an even bigger sense of humor than the normal me, that outrageous bastard."

Vanya chuckled quietly. Although she was still smiling, she noticed a couple of people casting side glances at them, especially at Klaus, who seemed to be oblivious to them. That previous pang in her chest returned, but now it was a familiar unease - only it was not _for_ her. Despite of it (or because of it), she said: "They're pretty cool." And she meant it.

"What about you, little sis? You're still doing that violin stuff you do?" he asked, mimicking an invisible violin with his hands and dropping them shortly after to say: "Come on, I'm not making fun of her."

Vanya pressed her lips a bit and nodded.

"It's the only thing I can really do."

"You know, that reminds me... I should really take this opportunity to..." Vanya raised her eyes to him again as he rummaged the pockets of his furry coat. "...ask for your autograph for your book! Shame I don't have it with me. Congratulations, by the way, you were pretty successful in those first six months or something."

Vanya's brief resolve and the last of her smile sunk so fast in her gut she could physically feel herself grow pale. Of course, what was she thinking would happen when she'd see one of her siblings again? Hugs and kisses?

"Klaus, I... you know, I'm sorry if-

"Hey, don't be," Klaus interrupted her with a casual hand wave, sounding honestly alright and not offended, but it was hard to tell if... "Yeah, some stuff was a bit harsh and a bit cold, but hey! That's how it was, so no one can blame you on anything."

Vanya's self-soothing turned into a soft pinching of her arm.

"I... Klaus, I really did mean... how've you been? It's been so long, I-"

"That's me!" he said out of nowhere, making Vanya frown before she realized what he meant when he stood up from his seat. He was still so much taller than her. "This's my stop, sis! It was great seeing you. Catch you in another ten years?"

"I..." she tried, pinching herself harder. "I'm glad I saw you, Klaus." And she meant it.

"You too! Glad you're not dead yet! Ben says hi, too!"

Vanya blinked slightly, barely having time to process the words and look at the empty right side before Klaus climbed up the stairs again in a rush. "Oh! Hey, Vanya, Vanya, Vanya, you got some of your pills with you? Just one or two, pretty please?" He placed both hands together in a pleading manner, though he again threw them to the side and growled: "Shut up already, I asked nicely!"

Vanya gaped again. She noticed how people were looking at them once more. "I... sorry, Klaus, I..."

Klaus couldn't really wait if he wanted to get out on this stop, so he gritted his teeth in frustration and sighed. "Well, shame. Catch you later then!"

Vanya felt herself sink in the seat, seeing Klaus through the window as he staggered away on the train station. That feeling in her chest returned, though it wasn't a piercing pang but rather a dull sort of ache. Her eyes moved back to the empty seat next to where Klaus had been sitting, feeling a slight chill down her spine. She had wondered about it when Ben died - it was only logical, with Klaus' powers, but it was a bit different to actually know it, especially coming out of nowhere as this meeting had been. She felt numb and dizzy.

When she had written her book, Klaus had been someone she could visualize surprisingly well in retrospect, considering how she had never really bonded with him before. They were all outsiders, in their own different and special ways - if there was something she had learned from her own book, it was that. It affected some more than others, and then Klaus... while Vanya tried so hard to be accepted as she was, Klaus tried his hardest to not _be_ who he was. It was a cold but simple conclusion to take and write about behind a typewriter, but now seeing him again after so long... It felt like a hard punch in the gut. Vanya felt sad. And hurt.

Not for herself, but for him.

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the end

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Author's Note: I hope you liked these little takes on each of them, and these two last not-so-small-at-all takes. Many thanks to the many people who left kudos! and special mention to the reviewers/bookmarkers TwistedIllusions, Trinaq, Bluekato, Ayeeeeeee, emmasswan, JayChan13, SecretDivin and Astroquartz

Thanks for reading

Edit: Thanks to the anon for the English correction! I do welcome any corrections, please send them my way so I can edit the text for better reading.


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